Griffin and Lucy
by CocaColaSplinters
Summary: **UPDATED/EDITED** A modern-day spin on Romeo and Juliet. Lucy is a wealthy, upper-class "princess," but she's hiding a terrible secret from everyone she loves. Griffin is an earnest, middle-class boy whose big mouth often gets him into trouble.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So here's my first story, a little spin on Romeo and Juliet in the modern world. I'm kind of winging it at this point, but we'll see how it goes...R&R and tell me what you think!

**Lucy**

Some people, I thought to myself as I sat up in bed one dreary November morning, are born knowing how to be happy. I am most definitely not one of them.

I rubbed my eyes and let out a soft moan as my alarm beeped incessantly. I shut it off and twiddled the blinds to look out the window. From twenty-five stories up, the city was beautiful--a sight that never ceased to impress me, no matter how long I'd lived here. Snowflakes were twirling gently down from the still-dark sky, which meant my walk to school today would be quite unpleasant. I mustered the willpower to rise from my bed and traipse into my bathroom. Technically, I suppose it would be called "the" bathroom--the only other one was in the master suite. The only other people living in my condo were my parents, however, who used the master suite, so the bathroom ergo became mine.

I got ready for school as I did every other morning, not knowing that today would be the day that changed my life--well, the second day that changed my life. I was equally unaware that I was about to fall completely in love, despite whatever inner demons I'd have to battle before I fully trusted another human being. Primping was exhausting and took nearly an hour. This may seem ridiculous, but I attended a small, ritzy Catholic school in the Chicago loop. Everyone was glamorous and it was difficult to keep up. I spent an inordinate amount of money on hair products and makeup from Sephora, but it was worth it--especially when it came to my hair. Straight, falling just past my shoulders, and dark brown with a tint of auburn, I knew it was better than most of the other girls my age had. I parted it on the side and flat-ironed it, giving it more volume on top, and it was my absolute pride and joy. So maybe I didn't have a bag or shoes or even grades as fabulous as everyone else--at least I had my hair.

The sun was starting to come up as I grabbed a Pop-Tart and headed out the door. My parents weren't home--they were really busy planning for a banquet my family was having later that week, a huge banquet that, it seemed, half of Chicago was invited to. It was cold outside, as I had suspected, and the seven blocks to my school were highly unpleasant. It was fun to walk past some fancy stores on my way over, but dodging the homeless people? Not so much. Especially for me--I was afraid of homeless people. Not to discriminate or anything...I have my reasons.

My best friend Christina greeted me there. "Hey girl," she said, giving me a high-five. "Wow, I love your coat. Is it new?"

"Yeah, actually," I answered, glancing down at my black-and-white houndstooth pea coat. I had forgotten that I had bought it two days ago and hadn't seen Christina since then. "Thanks."

"It's super cool." This was one of the things I loved about Christina--that, and her wicked sense of humor. I suspected she could have been much more popular than the two of us were if she hadn't been so different. She was slightly chubby, had mild acne, and didn't wear makeup or even play with her hair much. She wore whatever clothes looked cute when we went shopping, rather than following the latest trends. She was more into science and history than hair, fashion, and pop culture, all of which added up to make her strange. Although I wasn't too much like her, I thought there was something to be said for remaining different even at a cutthroat school like ours. To me, it menat she was cooler than a lot of other girls.

My other best friend chose that moment to race up to us. "Heyyyy," cooed Adam in a nasal voice, his long purple scarf flying about behind him. "What up, bitches?"

"Adam!" I gave him a hug. The petite kid came up to about my ears. "I love you."

"I know, I know, no need to tell me." He slapped Christina a high-five. "And may I just say that the two of you ladies look extra fabulous today. Christina, I am absoutely gaga over that necklace. It is _so_ fab."

"Oh my God, Adam," she laughed. "You are the reason there are homophobes in this world."

"Yes, and the bitches need to die!" It was true that Adam was a walking cliche--petite, obsessed with fashion, over-groomed blonde hair, and even a touch of eyeliner. Still, I couldn't get enough of the kid. "Okay, I gotta split like a banana, but I'll be back." He dashed off.

"Split like a banana?" Christina raised an eyebrow.

"Whatever. It's Adam." I smiled. Wow--first smile since, like, what? Saturday? Not to be emo or depressive, I thought to myself--sure, I was feeling sorry for myself, but at least I wasn't dragging anyone else into it, right? So I wasn't being too horrible, was I?

Whatever. I went into the school and took my seat in my homeroom. Today was shaping up to be another boring Monday.

Something interesting did happen that day, though-- in the hallways after sixth period. A couple of rich jock guys--as much as I hate to stereotype, the jock guys _always_ seemed to be exceptionally rich--got into a fight with two of what some bitch girls called Peasants. These were the kids on scholarship, who all seem to know each other, and all band together. Their apparent leader was this kid named Brian Montana, who was tall and kind of hot. Anyway, Brian seemed to have gotten into a shove contest with Paul Jameson, the most popular guy in the school. Paul and I had an awkward relationship based on the fact that our parents were best friends. That meant we saw each other quite a bit outside of school, and we always managed to have polite conversations--he was a pretty likable guy. Inside school, however, we didn't talk. I simply wasn't popular enough.

"You stay the hell away from me, bro," Paul yelled threateningly, shaking his finger at Brian.

"Shut up, Jameson," Brian yelled back. "You watch yourself."

Paul looked at him as though scandalized. He also seemed majorly pissed. A large crowd had now gathered, watching in anticipation.

Paul marched right up to Brian, pausing less than an inch away from his face. They were almost exactly the same height.

"I think," he said in a low, threatening voice, "that you had better stand aside."

Brian let out a mirthless laugh. "What are you gonna do to me, Jameson? What are you gonna do?"

Jameson pressed up closer. "Do you really want to find out?"

Brian looked at him. A tense silence filled the air, punctuated by a couple of girls whispering. A moment passed, until Brian seemed to decide that the fight wasn't worth it. He raised one eyebrow, and with a chuckle, he turned and walked away.

Paul stood for a moment longer, fuming, until his girlfriend, Emily, came up and started talking to him softly.

"That was weird," my friend Lizzie commented.

"I know, right?" I gazed at Brian Montana and a couple of his friends. What could have sparked a fight like that?

"They just hate each other," Lizzie said, as though she had read my mind.

I looked over at her. "Yeah, I guess they do. It's so stupid. Why?"

"I have no idea." She laughed. "Whatever. I've got to go to trig. See ya."

"Bye," I said a bit absently. I supposed it had just been a casual thing. After all, Paul was known for his hot temper, charming though he was. When two guys hated each other that much, especially when someone as volatile as Paul was involved, bad things were bound to happen. I looked at Brian and his group for a moment longer, then hiked my backpack over my shoulder and walked to English.

**Griffin**

When Brian got home, he was pissed.

"Paul Jameson," he began, "that creep, he's such an _asshole!"_

"Why?" I asked. "What happened?"

"I mentioned something about the Coppola banquet and he flipped out. He's all, 'You're not welcome there, go back to where you came from!' Like we're, I dunno, drug dealers or something, just because we don't live in a fancy condo on Michigan Avenue!" He sat down, tense, cracking his knuckles.

"He's a jerk. Ignore him," I reasoned. I hadn't been feeling too well lately, and I wasn't in the mood to deal with Brian. Usually, he was pretty laid-back, and it was rare that something got him this riled up. Still, I had other things than the moods of my twin brother on my mind.

With his almost-psychic twin perception, he seemed to pick up on this. "Hey, dude. What's up?"

"What do you mean?" I avoided his eyes.

"You seem kinda quiet. Something wrong?"

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, toying with the idea of keeping my mouth shut. Nah, it was pointless. Brian would know.

I let out a long sigh. "It's--I dunno, man. There's this girl--"

"Girl?" His interest was piqued. "Who is she? Is she hot?"

"Hot?" I snorted. "Yeah, she's hot as hell. She's like, the hottest girl I've ever seen, no joke."

He raised his eyebrows. "I'm fascinated. Tell me more, please."

I didn't want to confess who it was that I was really interested in. Although I wasn't smart enough to get into the same fancy school as Brian, I knew a lot of the people who went there, including the girls. To guys like me, they were almost completely unattainable. That was my major problem.

"I dunno, man. She's hot...but I can't get with her."

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because..." I couldn't meet his eyes. "I'm not good enough for her. Well, not rich enough, I should say."

"Oh." He slapped my back. "She's not the only chick out there, you know. Go for someone else."

"I can't." The words were out before I could stop them.

"Why not?"

I thought hard before choosing my words. "Because...I think I'm...in love with her." Of course, I still sounded like an idiot.

Brian laughed at me then. He laughed for a long time, too. "Okay, okay, dude, dude. We gotta get you out of this. Who is the girl?"

I figured that there was no point in holding back now. The damage was done. "Her name is...is Mary Kate. Davidson, I think."

He laughed harder now. "Mary Kate Davidson? Dude, are you _serious?" _

"Okay, can you knock it off?" The laughing was starting to bother me. I didn't appreciate being mocked after pouring my heart out, embarrassingly, to my brother.

"Okay, but in all seriousness, you know that she's pretty much royalty. The girl is gonna marry some guy with a huge trust fund and you'll be left with a middle-class, slightly less hot girl."

"Yes, I know that."

"So there's no hope for you."

"Yes," I said testily, "I know that." I sighed. "That's the part that's really bothering me. I mean, like, I really want to be with her. In a way I've never wanted to be with anyone before. It's weird, dude, but...I really like her, a lot. And she's never even spoken to me."

Brian hesitated, looking at me sympathetically. "Griff...how about this. Friday night is the Coppola banquet. It's at this huge, fancy hotel, and pretty much everyone at St. Theresa's is gonna be there. We'll see Mary Kate, she'll reject you like the stuck-up snob she is, and then you'll find a new girl because all the hot Catholic school girls will be there, too. You'll be all better. Deal?"

I raised an eyebrow. "You got invited to that?"

"Everyone got invited to that. Trust me." He slapped my back again. "I know exactly how to handle your poor, broken heart."

I threw my empty soda can at him and walked out of the room.

"Don't go all PMS-y on me," he called after me, and I smiled in spite of myself.


	2. Chapter 2

Lucy

"Lucy, that dress is gorgeous!" Lizzie exclaimed as I came out of the Nordstrom dressing room wearing a black halter number.

"Really?" I turned to examine my backside in the mirror. It was Wednesday, and I was shopping for a dress for my family's banquet that Friday. I had to look better than everyone else there--I was, after all, hosting it. "I want to, like, stand out. I don't want to wear the same thing as everyone else."

My friend Dana frowned. "I wouldn't wear black, then. Everyone will be in black, I promise."

"Red, maybe?" I raised my eyebrows. "I don't know...I don't want to look like I'm going to homecoming."

"Try red," Dana suggested. "Or, like, cream."

"I could." I pursed my lips. "Yeah, I think you're right. I picked out a pretty brown one. I'll try that one on next."

"Okay, good luck," Lizzie wished me. I realized how lucky I was to have friends this good--they were accepting enough of my insecurity to help me pick out a dress. I cracked a smile. Maybe life wasn't so awful, after all, no matter how much things sucked sometimes.

I put on the brown dress--a satin halter, gathered in the middle. It did look a little homecoming-ish, but I really did like it.

"Oh my God, that's so cute!" Lizzie exclaimed. "I love it."

"Are you sure this look hasn't gone out of style?" I gazed at my waist in the mirror. It was flattering, at least.

Christina spoke up, finally looking away from the game she was playing on her iPod Touch. "Lucy, why don't you stop obsessing about your dress? You'll look fabulous in anything you wear, so why don't you just stop worrying about what everyone else will think and just go with your gut?"

Her words struck me, as Christina's particular wisdom often did. She had a good point--why waste my time trying to please everyone at _my_ party? I glanced around the store, noticing for the first time a dress tucked away in the corner. I knew as soon as I saw it that it was the perfect dress. It was short, fitted, spaghetti strap--and, best of all, hot pink, a color I had always loved but never really wore. A black ribbon was sewn around the hips. I went and grabbed it.

"I'm going to try this one," I announced.

"Go for it," Lizzie encouraged.

I tried it on, and I realized that it was everything I could have asked for. I ran out of the fitting room and threw my arms around Christina.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" I inquired.

"Once or twice," she laughed. "I do what I can."

When I got home, my mom was in the kitchen, tapping away at her laptop. My mom was the stereotypical rich woman--botoxed and boob-job'ed, wearing absurdly fashionable clothes with her absurdly fake dyed hair. Regardless, she was smart and had gotten to the top through hard work as a lawyer. It didn't matter to me, though. I was just about last on her list of priorities, and I sometimes hated her for it.

"Did you get a dress, Luce?" she asked without looking up.

"Yes, I did."

"I hope it's pretty. Did your dad tell you about Tanner?"

I swung my bag onto the counter. "Tanner? Who's that?"

She looked up at me. "Tanner," she said, "is a boy. The son of a potential client of mine, actually."

"Oh?"

"He's a nice young man," she went on. "And very attractive."

"That's cool, Mom," I said noncommittally. I had a feeling I knew where this was going.

"I know mothers really shouldn't interfere in this type of thing, but Lucy, I really think you should try to...you know, make a connection with him." She patted my shoulder. "He'd be great for you."

"I don't know." I tried to look convincingly unconvinced. "I'm not that interested in dating right now."

"Please," she said, "give this boy a shot. He really would be great for you, and..." She hesitated. _Now we'll hear the truth, _I thought. "Oh, as much as I hate to say this, it would work out perfectly if you two were together. I mean, it might help my career if his dad decides to use me in his defense."

"Defense?" I raised my eyebrows. "What did he do?"

"Oh, nothing too bad. Alleged misconduct with a minor. It's no big deal." That was my mom--alleged misconduct with a minor is just no big deal. Sure it is.

"Oh, okay, then."

"So, will you give him a try?" she asked hopefully.

I didn't want to be selfish. After all, this was obviously something very important to my mom. Still, I wasn't looking for a relationship right now, especially not one with a boy I'd never seen before with a scumbag father. "Like I said, Mom, I'm not really looking for a relationship."

She started to get angry. "Look, Lucy, I've already talked to Tanner. I used all my lawyer skills to make you sound appealing and he's actually willing to give you a shot, sight unseen. He is a _very_ nice boy that _many_ girls your age would love to date. I worked awfully hard to get him to even consider you, and I'd appreciate it if you'd show some gratitude."

I found it hard to be grateful to anyone being this blatantly manipulative. "Mom, you used me to get to your own ends! You only want me to date this boy to get to his father!"

"That is _not true!" _she squeaked indignantly. "I just happened to find a nice boy who is the son of one of my potential clients, and I tried to set him up with you! I could have this boy eating out of your hand easily--you're very pretty, Lucy, and many boys would love to date you! I _got _him for you, and you're not grateful at all!"

I was getting fed up. "You can't 'get' a boyfriend for your daughter like you can 'get' a pet. People don't work that way--_you can't use them._ Isn't that what you sent me to Catholic school to learn?"

She threw her hands in the air. "Guess what, Lucy? In the real world, you have to use people to get to the top. Okay?"

"Oh, so you're going to use _me?"_

_"I never said that!"_

"You might as well have!" I stomped into my bedroom.

"Lucy! Lucy, get back here!"

I slammed and locked the door so she couldn't get in. Yes, I was being bratty, but I was immensely offended and upset.

About twenty minutes later, she knocked on my door. "Lucy. I'm going to the office. Your father will be home soon."

"Okay," I responded. Maybe my dad could talk some sense into her. He and I got along much better, anyway. Probably due to his lack of estrogen.

I unlocked my door and made myself dinner. As I was eating, my dad came home. Dad was a handsome and charming man, often making my friends laugh even if I was just embarrassed. He was head of finances at a major museum, a position he had attained through connections and string-pulling by my grandpa. That did not mean he was unqualified for the position, though.

"Your mom called me," he said.

"She was upset when she left," I informed him.

"Look, Lucy." He sighed. "Maybe--maybe your mom made this whole deal sound worse than it actually is. She wants you to go to this party, flirt with this guy, make it look like you have a connection so that his father will be more open to your mom. It makes her seem more human, you know. Then, until the deal is made, just answer his calls, maybe go out with him a couple of times, pretend you're interested--just enough to make the dad bite. Is that really too far beyond your morals?"

Yes, I thought. I sighed. "It just doesn't seem right, Dad. It seems so...manipulative."

He rested his hand on my shoulder. "Please."

It was hard to say no to him under any circumstance. I pursed my lips. "All right," I said. "I'll at least give him a try. But I'm not promising anything."


	3. Chapter 3

Griffin

"I do not have a good feeling about this, guys," I said.

"Are you SERIOUS, dude?" Mark Prendergast, a friend of Brian's and mine who was a scholarship student with my brother, clapped me on the shoulder. "We're going to a party with a bunch of hot chicks, including the love of your life, and you have a bad feeling about it?"

"Well..." How was I supposed to tell them about my dream? It had been really unnerving...I wasn't quite sure what it meant or what had happened; it was just a blur of colors and sounds. But when I woke up, I had one thought clear in my head: _Don't go to that party tomorrow._

"Seriously, don't be scared of rejection," Brian informed me. "There will be plenty of other girls there tonight to mend your broken heart."

"Okay, I know you guys think I'm a pansy for liking Mary Kate, but can you just lay off the love thing?" Even though I did love her. I was pretty sure.

"Well, we all know what you mean when you say love." Mark gave an exaggerated wink. "How many times do you picture her naked?"

"Shut up," I grumbled.

"Tell me, do you think about her when you--"

"Shut up! I'm serious. I mean, yeah, she's hot. Okay, she's really hot. But that's not the only thing I think about." I plopped down on the bed, buttoning up my black shirt. God, I was so frustrated.

"Griff, why don't you want to go?" Brian inquired, adjusting his gold oxford so that it showed off his muscles. His tone was casual, but I knew he was sincere. I figured that these two guys were my best friends--it wasn't so bad if I told them what was really on my mind.

"Um...Okay, this is going to sound crazy, but...I had a dream last night. And it's making me think we shouldn't go."

They stared at me. God, why was I so freaking open with people? They already thought I was crazy enough.

"It gave me a really bad feeling," I elaborated. Because of course, continuing to embarrass myself was the best idea. "I'm not even really sure what happened in it. But it was freaky."

There was silence. Brian and Mark looked at each other. Mark spoke first. "It's just a dream, dude. It's not a big deal."

"It was weird, though."

"You know what dreams are?" He put his arm around my shoulder. "Dreams are cruel tricks designed to keep you from ever really getting rest. People think they mean something deep and important, but they really don't. You dream about whatever happened to you that day. It's no big deal. And you know what dreams should be about?"

"What?" I went along with it, even though I knew the answer.

"Sex. Nothing's better than a good ol' sex dream." He clapped my back again. "Come on. Put on your sexy tie and let's go."

I knotted my whitish tie and followed them out the door. What other choice did I have? I had to retain a small chunk of my masculinity before I became a man-bitch. "I still think this is a really dumb idea," I muttered as we headed toward the elevator.

We arrived at the fancy hotel where the banquet was being held. We walked in--right on top of a crowd of guys headed by none other than Brian's favorite, Paul Jameson.

He narrowed his eyes when he saw us. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"We," said Mark condescendingly, waving a cream-colored paper in his face, "have an _invitation."_

"I really don't think you should be here," growled Jameson. "Nobody wants you."

"We have every right to be here," Brian said firmly. The three of us kept walking.

The place was fairly crowded with teenagers and parents. The girls were all wearing dresses that made them look hot--no way around it. There was a dance floor in the middle, one of those fake wood ones, next to the table for the DJ, who was still setting up. A buffet table was set against the wall; some people had started taking off little bits of fruit and shrimp. I began to scan the room anxiously for Mary Kate.

Brian nudged me. "Look, Griff. There's your woman."

I turned to see--and my heart stopped. She was just so gorgeous. She was wearing a black dress, one of those ones that ties around the neck instead of having two straps. It had like sequins or something on the top so it sparkled. She had big silver hoop earrings, and her blonde hair was straight and shiny. I had never seen anyone so beautiful.

"Go talk to her," Mark urged.

"Are you kidding? I can't go talk to her. I can't."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I dunno, man." I shook my head. Why did I feel this way? I was so tired of being confused and unhappy, and wanting to be with Mary Kate all the time even though I'd never talked to her. I was turning into such a _girl._

A handsome, thick-haired man approached us. "Hi, boys. Thanks for coming tonight."

I realized that this had to be Mr. O'Brien, host of the banquet. "Thanks for having us," Brian responded politely. "We're having a great time."

"Well, just make sure you put a bit of money in the raffle. You can get some cool prizes and the money goes to a good cause."

"Sure," Mark said, while Brian and I exchanged glances. Donating money was the last thing we had come here for.

O'Brien walked away, and Brian turned to me. "So, dude, want to grab something to eat?"

But I didn't hear him. Because over his shoulder, I had seen something far more interesting than food. I saw..._her._


	4. Chapter 4

Lucy

"Oh my God, you look FAB," Adam exclaimed as he approached me, surveying my short dress.

"Fab?" I raised my eyebrows. "Who says _fab_?"

"I do!" he cried, pretending to strike me. "And you look gorgeous. Love the hair. You should wear it like that more often." I had curled my hair and tied in a ribbon that matched my dress.

"No, I like it the way it normally is," Lizzie protested.

"Thanks, Liz," I smiled. "I'm having fun, guys." I really was, too--my friends and I were dressed up, drinking really delicious punch, and basically just having a good time. Even better, my friends' advice had proved sound--most people were in black, and no one else was in pink.

"Look at Sarah Liman's dress," Dana said with an eye roll. "That's disgustingly short. What's up with her?"

I glanced at the short, buxom girl she was referring to. "Oh my God, her boobs are hanging out all over the place," Adam exclaimed. "Ugh, who likes her?"

"Don't be so mean," I prodded. "She's never done anything to you."

Adam rolled his eyes at me. "Do-gooder. God."

Christina tapped my arm. She looked pretty in a knee-length black gown, and she had curled her hair. On top of this, she was actually wearing heels. The fact that she had dressed up for something that wasn't even important to her, just to my family, made me realize how lucky I was to have her. I glanced at her. "What is it?"

"I think I've spotted Tanner," she said.

"Where?" I immediately began to search, but he wasn't hard to find. An extremely hot dark-haired guy and a short-ish, gray-haired man, whom I assumed was his father, were talking to my parents. It had to be Tanner--no way it wasn't. "He's hot," I whispered.

"Yeah, he is," she agreed.

"Should I go talk to him?" I glanced at her, apprehensive.

"No. Let your parents introduce him to you. You probably shouldn't show too much interest in him, because he'll lose interest if he thinks you're too easy to get. Guys like a challenge."

I stared at her. "When did _you_ get so knowledgeable about guys?"

She smiled. "I have my secrets."

"Apparently."

I didn't have long to wait. Less than a minute later, I heard my mom say, "Lucy?"

I turned. There she was, along with the hot guy from before. Tanner. Looking at him up close, though, something about him didn't seem quite right. He was hot, he looked fairly nice...but there was something that didn't quite work.

"Hi, Mom," I beamed.

"Lucy, this is Tanner. He's the son of an acquaintance of mine."

I glanced into his eyes. "Hey. I'm Lucy."

"Nice to meet you, Lucy." He shook my hand. "You look lovely."

"Thanks," I smiled back. Yuck! A handshake? "You look lovely"? Who was he kidding?

"Tanner doesn't really know anyone else here, and he was hoping you might show him around," Mom continued, delivering her orders as niceties.

"Oh, of course." I turned to the rest of the group. "Tanner, this is Dana, Lizzie, Adam, and Christina. Everyone, this is Tanner. His dad and my mom know each other."

"Nice to meet you," Dana said flirtatiously.

"Nice to meet you, too," he said with a polite smile.

At that moment, the DJ spoke through his microphone. "All right, everyone! We're going to get this party started!"

A group of girls cheered. Dana rolled her eyes.

"Unfortunately, I got parents here, too, so I have to please you both. So, to start out, we're gonna take a nice easy listening song. Everyone grab a partner and head out on the dance floor!"

A slow song started, and Tanner turned to me. "Would you like to dance with me?"

"Sure," I said. I didn't really have a choice, after all.

He led me out onto the dance floor and took my waist. He danced the way they had taught us in junior high--the real way, one hand on my waist, the other in mine. He danced the one-two-three box pattern, too. It was like a movie.

"So, Lucy," he said, "what do you like to do?"

I shrugged. "Oh, you know. Just hang out with friends, go shopping." Then I figured I might as well be honest with him. It wouldn't hurt. "Actually, I like to write poetry."

He raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yeah. And I like art. I'm a pretty good artist."

"That's interesting," he said.

"Thank you. What do you like to do?"

"I like sailing," he replied.

Blech.

"I have my own boat."

"That's great," I replied. Then, using my acting skills to full potential, I added, "Your girlfriend is very lucky."

He sighed dramatically, apparently honing his skills, too. "I don't have one."

"Oh?" I inquired in mock curiosity. "Whyever not?" Whyever? That may have been overdoing it a bit.

"Girls are...well, they tend to be intimidated by my father, if I'm being completely honest."

"Why is that?" _Couldn't say I blamed them. I'd be scared of Chester Molester._

"He's just very polite, and for some reason, that scares them."

"Well, you're very polite, too," I remarked innocently. "I'm not scared of you."

He chuckled. "Well." He bent down to whisper in my ear. "I'm not quite as polite _all_ the time."

I almost threw up in my mouth.

I felt a light tap on my shoulder. "Excuse me."

I turned and saw...Brian. Except, no, it wasn't Brian. This boy had hair that was too long; our school wouldn't allow it. He was wearing a black shirt and a cream-colored tie, and he was stronger-looking than Brian, but otherwise looked exactly the same. I looked up into his eyes and had the sensation that I had been hit by a schoolbus. I felt a strong impact and my face got very hot.

"May I cut in?" the stranger asked.

"Be my guest." Tanner stepped away, pausing to lean in and whisper, "I'll see you later."

Except I didn't hear him. I was gaping, open-mouthed, at this mysterious person who had taken his place.

He took my waist the way Tanner had, but it was obvious that he didn't know how to dance. "Hi," he said.

"Hi," I answered, feeling dizzy. I was literally seeing spots.

"I saw you from across the room," he said. His voice carried, even over the loud music.

"Oh." Why was I such an idiot? I couldn't think of a single thing to say.

"Yeah."

Suddenly, my stomach clenched like a fist. The air suddenly felt very heavy. I felt my face moving slowly, very slowly toward him, saw his eyes begin to slide shut, felt his lips on mine. I'd been kissed before while playing spin-the-bottle at parties, but I'd never felt anything like this. His lips were soft and smooth, like little pillows under mine, and I felt his warm breath on my upper lip, and could just barely feel the wetness of his mouth on the tip of the kiss. We made only light contact, but that kiss seemed to go on forever.

He pulled away slowly. "You're beautiful," he said simply.

"Uhh."

"Am I, you know..." He seemed suddenly uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, but I've never felt anything like this before; I just had a feeling that kissing you would be a good idea, and I decided to do it; I'm really sorry if I upset you..."

I stared at him.

"Look, I'm sorry, I'll just go." He turned.

I reached out to grab his arm with lightning-fast reflexes that I never knew I had.

"Meet me on the roof in ten minutes," someone with my voice said.

His face broke out in a huge grin. "Okay."

He walked away, leaving me feeling confused. Did I seriously just ask a guy to _meet me on the roof?_ I never did anything like that.

A feeling started in my gut and spread to every corner of my body, curling my toes. Every ounce of my body screamed at me that this was right. My lip curled in half a grin, and, feeling very naughty, I headed for the elevator.


	5. Chapter 5

Griffin

The beautiful girl had asked me to meet her on the roof. I couldn't believe it. I thought I'd royally screwed things up--after all, I'd kissed her and I didn't even know her name. But it seemed like things were going to work out. In a strange way, I needed for them to work out.

I took the elevator up to the top story, went out onto the roof, and waited. It was chilly and the wind blew off the lake, but I was pretty sure this was the best night of my life. I felt something strange and new, something I'd never felt before. Something like I'd felt for Mary Kate Davidson, but multiplied by a thousand.

I heard the door open behind me and saw her. Her red hair was curly and perfect, and her eyelashes were long and black. And her short dress showed off the fact that she had fantastic, tan legs. I always wondered how girls were so tan even in the winter. No way did they go tanning--everyone knew that gave you cancer.

She smiled at me. "Hi."

"Hi." I couldn't stop the smile from spreading across my face.

"Um." She tucked her hair behind her ear. I wanted to touch that soft curl, feel the curve of her earlobe, hold that slender hand. "I heard...I heard someone downstairs say that you're Griffin Montana."

"Yeah, I am," I answered.

"I'm Lucy O'Brien," she divulged.

Lucy O'Brien? Maybe she wasn't as well-known as Mary Kate Davidson, but she was way richer and smarter and...and even more unattainable. Why did I always fall for the wrong girls?

"Oh," I said in a disappointed voice.

"But..." She took a few steps toward me. "I don't know. I mean, we come from completely different worlds. It doesn't seem like this can work."

"No." I nodded in agreement, feeling my disappointment welling up inside of me. "No, it doesn't."

"But that doesn't matter to me."

I looked up at her. She was staring at me intensely. Her eyes were the color of chocolate.

"When you kissed me..." She blinked rapidly in excitement. "Something felt right. It felt like it was supposed to happen."

I gazed at her. She had me completely under a spell. I couldn't explain it, but I was completely charmed by her.

"Lucy," I said. I took a step toward her and reached out to touch her hair, gently, lightly. "I can't explain it, but the first time I saw you, I felt a way I'd never felt before. I feel like if I look at you, I'll explode because what I feel is too big to hold inside." _Here it goes again, _I thought. _Completely embarrassing myself._ "And I can't imagine that any other girl on this planet is more beautiful than you. And right now, I can't think of anything I'd rather do than just...just look in your eyes." I swallowed, hard. "I think I'd be happy if I could just do that for the rest of my life, actually."

She gazed at me. The air suddenly seemed heavy and tense. I couldn't breathe. As she began to lean in toward me, I felt a tingle spread from my toes all throughout my body, and then we made contact.

She pulled away after a moment. "I don't see how this is going to work," she said sadly.

I cupped my hand under her chin. "There's a reason why we feel this way," I said forcefully. "This was _meant to be, _Lucy. We were meant to find each other tonight. There's no way around it." Did I sound like an idiot? I had no clue where all this sentimental stuff was coming from.

But it worked, apparently. Her face broke out in the most blinding smile I'd ever seen. She pulled me into a tight hug, resting her head against my chest. All I thought was that I'd hold her that way any time she wanted. Whatever it took to make her happy--bending over backwards, jumping through hoops, walking over fire--I'd do it, and I'd be happy to. Anything, anything it took. Anything she needed. I planted a kiss in those beautiful curls.

"We have to keep this a secret," I murmured.

"I know," she whispered back. Then she pulled away sharply. "Wait a minute."

"What?"

"Do you have a girlfriend?" she inquired suspiciously.

"What? Of course not!" I was offended. "Why would you even think that?"

"I don't want you to go thinking that I'm easy. I've really never felt this way about anyone before, and this is important to me, and somehow I think you're something special and I'll be really upset if you're just in it to get laid. I mean...God, Christina said I should play hard to get with guys, and here I go talking about how wonderful you are, and you probably think I'm either a complete creep or a slut." She clapped her hands over her mouth. "Oh! I've probably said too much, haven't I? I tend to do that."

"That's something we have in common," I smiled. "Lucy, I swear to you. What you've described to me--your feelings for me--I feel that times a million. I've never wanted anything, or anyone, as much as I want you."

She looked at me, bewildered. So she still didn't believe me? I'd have to change that. I leaned in closely and gave her a kiss. Her lips were so soft and smooth under mine, and the light pressure was enough to send me reeling. I wanted more, more, but I knew it would never be enough. No amount of kisses or sex or anything else could reveal to this girl how deep my feelings for her were.

She ended the kiss and placed a hand to her forehead as though dizzy. "Oh, Griffin. Griffin, I don't care what everyone else thinks. I'd give up all my money, my friends, my school, everything, to be with you."

I pulled her to me tightly, crushing her against me. I felt her heart fluttering against my chest. "Meet me tomorrow," I whispered.

"When?"

I paused. "Noon."

"Where?"

I tried to think of a distinctive spot. "Under the Bean."

"Okay." She leaned up to give me a kiss--sweet, slow, tender. It multiplied into another, then another, then a long, lingering one.

"I need to go," she sighed.

"Don't," I pleaded. The spot on my chest where her head had been felt icily cold without her being there.

"I don't want to leave either," she breathed, giving me a dizzying kiss. "But I have to."

"No," I protested.

"I'll see you tomorrow." She turned to walk away.

"Lucy!" I called after her.

She turned to look back at me, her shoulders hunched to protect herself from the cold.

I took a step toward her. "Look, maybe this is presumptuous, since we just met and stuff, but I think, given the emotions we've experienced this evening, that it's accurate." Wow, how many vocab words did I use there? "I just...I think that I'm in love with you."

She smiled. "I know that I'm in love with you."

And with that, she turned and walked through the door, and was gone like the last moments of a dream.

* * *

A/N: I'm not quite sure if this chapter feels right to me. Something about it seems a little fakey. Any advice?

Thanks for reading!


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